Bets
by DireSphinx
Summary: In which Shinichi discovers the perils of betting against one Hattori Heiji.


I don't own Detective Conan. But then again, that's probably a good thing. If I was in charge, I'd be sorely tempted to shrink Heiji. Imagine the possibilities...

* * *

"No way. No effing way." Shinichi shook his head in abject refusal to the gleeful grin stretching across Heiji's mouth. _He could not have just proposed what I think he just proposed._

"What's a matter Kudo, chicken? Can't put your money where your mouth is?" Oh yes, Heiji was enjoying this.

"Hattori, I don't remember this being part of the agreement." _This is nothing but a bad dream, just a bad dream. Wake up Shinichi, wake up!_

"So I spiced things up a little bit. What's the big deal?" A subtle indifference colored his tone, not quite masking the malicious glee wafting in the background.

"You know what the big deal is. This goes against everything I stand for. I can't do this." _And why the hell you'd want me to is beyond my imagination._

"You mean to tell me that Kudo, the Shinichi Kudo, the Detective of the East, the Sherlock Holmes of our times, one of the greatest minds of our generation, is going back on his word? That he doesn't have the guts to keep his end of a bet? Your ancestors would be ashamed." Shinichi could feel the smugness radiating off Heiji's casual slouch.

"I have no problem keeping bets ahou. What I have problems with are no-account, good-for-nothing Osaka bastards who decide to change the rules after the game's done."

"It's not my fault you lost. Perhaps you should go back to the kiddy table where you belong if you can't handle the big leagues." Heiji sniped down at the sore losing pipsqueak.

"Low blow Hattori."

"Well, I can't help it if you're such a shrimp. A high blow would go right over your head." And Heiji had the audacity to smile.

_Grrr._ _If only he was in kicking range._ "Any way I can convince you to change your mind?" _Please, please, please!_

"Not in a million years."

_Damn._ "What happens if I refuse?" _And trust me, there is no way I am going along with this..._

"Let's just say a certain detective is going to tell Ran-neechan just who broke her brand new iPod nano."

_Shit, Ran loved that thing. Damn my Achilles heel!_ "I hate you Hattori."

"I know."

"And when this is over, I will kill you. I will kill you, frame it as a suicide, and have uncle convince the police you took your own life. And when you are buried I will laugh over your grave. Long and hard. Maybe even dance on top of it when Ran's not looking," Shinichi ranted in a deadly serious voice.

"Murder, perjury, tampering with evidence – isn't that against your moral code?" Heiji crowed over his prey. With results like this, perhaps he should challenge Kudo to high stakes poker more often.

"Every man has his breaking point Hattori." _And not a man alive would blame me._

"I'll be sure to keep my eyes out for midget murderers then," Heiji replied with a laugh.

"You're enjoying this aren't you?" _Sick, sadistic bastard..._

"Oh, definitely. Remember, eight o'clock tomorrow at the Beika Grand Hotel."

"Damn you," Shinichi ground out to the closing front door. Heiji, hearing the muttered curse, chose only to laugh. His guffaws rang in Shinichi's ears unabashedly for the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

It was eight ten at the Beika Grand Hotel, and all hell had broken loose. Inspector Nakamori, head of the Kid Taskforce, was standing point outside, holding the mobbing citizens come to see their 'hero' at bay. Why he wasn't in the main ballroom with the rest of his men...grrr, damn Aoko. Get clipped by one sniper chasing after Kid, and Aoko had to act like he'd died or something. He'd had to agree to stay away from the action to make her put the mop down. _She's too much like her mother... _

"Nakamori-keibu, Kid's got the jewel! He's heading for the west wing!" a voice erupted from the radio strapped to his waist.

"Well, hurry up and go after him!" Nakamori barked into his radio.

"We would sir, but it seems we're tied up..." the man grudgingly replied.

_Not again..._"How bad is it this time?"

"Well, the whole taskforce is tangled up in neon green yarn...and super glue...in the shape of a clover. None of us can get out." The man on the other end did not seem pleased to relate the details.

"#$#! What about the secondary team? Can they give chase?" _Surely they're going after the jewel..._

"They're also part of the clover."

"But they were in the opposite side of the building!" _WTF?!?_

"They don't know how they ended up here either sir."

"$$$$$$#####!$!"

"My words exactly Inspector," the man replied.

Shutting off his radio, Inspector Nakamori raced through the revolving glass doors and into the marble foyer. According to the building's blueprints and the location of the jewel, the west wing was on the left-hand side of the building, and approximately fifteen stories up.

And the damn thief just had to cut all the power to the elevator shafts. $##$! With some very inappropriate cursing (use your imagination children), Nakamori raced for the stairs.

Some five minutes, two traps, one kamikaze slinky, and a pink gerbil mob later, Nakamori made it to the rooftop hatch at the end of the west wing. Almost resigned to the fact that he'd lost the Kaitou Kid yet again, Nakamori opened the door to the roof expecting to hear the exultant screams of the crowds with another successful getaway. But screaming of an entirely different variety greeted his eardrums.

Instead of the cacophonous whoops and yells of an ecstatic crowd, in front of Nakamori, no more than 20 yards away, was the Kaitou Kid cackling with all his might, tears streaming from behind his monocle. Confused, wondering what could keep the Kaitou Kid from making a clean and flamboyant getaway, Nakamori looked around the rooftop. Seeing what had garnered the Kid's undying attention, Inspector Nakamori blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"#$*#$! You've got a son?"

Complete silence. Kaitou Kid and his mini counterpart just started at him in shock.

Too bad Nakamori was knocked out by the chibi Kid's soccer ball attack before he could witness Kaitou Kid fall flat on his ass cracking up. At least he could watch the video footage later from his camera pin.

* * *

The newspapers had a field day with the compromising photos and video, courtesy of one Kaitou Kid. They were fighting tooth and nail to come up with the best slogans. _**Continuing the Legacy?, Thief in Training?, **_or Heiji's personal favorite_**, Kid's got a Kid!**_ The story was the talk of the town. Especially with the Kaitou Kid's personal account of the night submitted to every paper in Japan in triplicate. (Heck, anything to watch Hakuba's mouth flap like a fish trying to put the blame on Kaito. He certainly wasn't old enough to have any children. Or get intimate for that matter. Unless Aoko was willing to experiment...?)

Heiji couldn't get enough. Getting Kudo into a Kid costume at a Kid heist was one thing, but this? Oh, this was the icing on top of the seven-tiered chocolate ganache wedding cake. Here Kudo was, trying to take the Kid down, even in the Kid outfit, and what happens? He's mistaken for the damn thief's son. Kudo would never be able to live this down. He'd make sure of it.

It's just Kudo's luck he and the thief happen to look so much alike. He'd have to point that out. Multiple times.

Chuckling to himself, Heiji folded his newspaper and headed for the front door. Today, the stupid ahou had made him promise to go shopping with her for an iPod. He couldn't see why his presence was necessary. How hard was it to buy a stupid music player? Aren't they all the same? Grumbling about helpless ahous who couldn't do anything by themselves, he pulled open the wooden door.

BAM!!!

A soccer ball whizzed by mere centimeters from his head into the living room. _Shit! _ He instinctively ducked, looking for danger and came eye to eye with one irate elementary schooler. "Hattori! Omae o korosu!" *

Heiji had never slammed a door faster in his life. Kazuha be damned, but when death was lurking with a soccer ball outside his front door, she could go iPod shopping by herself.

At least, that was the idea until a soccer ball came crashing through the front window.

* * *

Kazuha was brimming with irritation at one detective ahou. Heiji should have been here twenty minutes ago! Was it so hard to show up on time for once in his life? He'd better not be involved in another murder mystery or she swore he'd be getting a fist to the face!

Looking around, hoping to catch a glimpse of his kendo stick, a trilling beep sounded out from her purse. Pulling out her Softbank cellphone, she noticed she had a text message from the absent detective. Finally! He'd better have a good reason for keeping her waiting! Reading the message, she raised her brows in confusion.

"_In the case of my untimely demise, it was the midget in the janitor's closet with a soccer ball!_ What does that mean?" Kazuha wondered aloud.

* * *

And somewhere halfway across Tokyo, hiding in a janitor's closet, and trying not to come up with any gay jokes, was Heiji making a call to the nearest airport.

"Tokyo International? Yes, I'd like to book the next flight out of the country. Where? Umm, which flight gets me out of the country the fastest? Why? Well, it's a long story, involving a poker bet and last night's Kid heist, but all you need to know is that if I don't get out of Japan asap, I'm a dead man. I mean D-E-A-D dead. Which flight is leaving in the next hour? Hello? Hello?"

Damn.

Okay, next time, just stick with the Pretty Pretty Princess idea. Hearing a soccer ball rebound off the walls outside, Heiji bit back a whimper. Midget murderers are no fun.

* * *

*Omae o korosu!: I'll kill you! (made famous by Heero Yuy of _Gundam Wing_) Sorry, couldn't help myself. ^.^

I've been looking for an excuse to write Shinichi into a Kid outfit - thank you Heiji for stepping in and being my plot device! Hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it!


End file.
